


Déjà vécu

by JazzApples



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Aura - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzApples/pseuds/JazzApples
Summary: Déjà vécu - The feeling of having already lived through something.Unfortunately for Riley, he was both descended from and a reincarnation of a world renowned hero.





	

Riley’s family owned a special book. It was a first edition of The History of Rota, some few hundred years old and well kept. Something like that would fetch a fair sum of money in this day and age. Growing up, Riley saw his parents cherish and protect it. When he asked about it, his parents would say that it was more than just a rare copy. It was their family legacy, passed down through the generations and detailed the history of their ancestors all the way back to Sir Aaron, a great hero among humans and Pokémon. Whenever Riley came home upset and tearful after the other kids had been mean to him, his parents would take out that book and open it to the page featuring the famous painting of Sir Aaron atop his Pidgeot. ‘You’re special,’ his parents would say. ‘Be proud of who you are, and what powers you have. You can be a hero too.’

Riley could never bring himself to look into the face in the painting. Aside from the pervading sense of wrongness that came from looking at a man that looked like him, the story of a flat and paper hero did little to comfort him. The knight was the epitome of justice and righteousness. People loved him. He could probably control his powers just fine.

This was part of Riley’s theory of reincarnation. His parents and his grandparents and probably his great-grandparents and probably theirs too were ordinary. He was supposedly the only one in many hundreds of years, since the time of the great Sir Aaron, to be born with (uncontrollable) powers, and he was the splitting image of the knight to boot. The whole thing was decidedly weird.

As he grew up, more evidence was added to the list. His partner Pokémon. His habits. His personality. His fashion sense.

His dreams.

It started, like his powers, small at first. Like the wrongness he felt looking at the painting, or the vague sense of familiarity he got when he first looked at Riolu, or waking up from a half forgotten dream of a grand castle.

Then his power started to grow. When he got angry he glowed. When he closed his eyes to try to sleep he could still see. Sensing people’s emotions, then thoughts, then actions. Reaching out to a tree’s aura and ending up warping it like sand. And his dreams, when he could finally sleep restfully again without blue pervading the edges of his vision, became longer and more detailed, and he could remember them with much more clarity.

Almost like he was living two lives at once, Riley could see the hot springs and the geysers spread on the plains, and how much he enjoyed dipping his feet into the pools. He remembered a Lucario, attitude stiff and formal but kind and soft at heart. He remembered a queen, whose smile could brighten an entire room.

There were some other memories too, ones that he did not truly understand until he was older. There were meetings, where everyone looked worried, ever increasing reports from what must’ve been scouts, mentions of tensions rising between two larger neighbouring countries, endless late nights in the palace library pouring over old books, desperately searching for something, anything that could stop the oncoming war and save their small kingdom. A sleepless and nerve-wracking night spent with the queen on the eve of what he felt to be the end of the world (as they knew it). Her hand came to rest upon his and he noticed her moving ever closer. He (rather selfishly, he privately thought) did not move away. (But then, with events such as this, with what would happen tomorrow, could he be selfish, just this once?)

The dreams didn’t stop, small snippets following Riley around as he travelled over Sinnoh taking on the gym challenge, in the back of his mind as he tasted defeat at the hands of the Elite Four, and on the edges of thought as he settled on Iron Island in his early adult years and pondered, what next? as he pieced together the memories of his past life and wondered about the enigma knight Sir Aaron.

(He still frequently read from his family’s book. He never looked into the knight’s face, though he turned to that page every time.)

\---

The TV talked a lot about dying in dreams but Riley didn’t expect it to feel so realistic. But then again, a part of him observed, as he sat in bed trying to listen to the thump of his heart (trying to convince himself he was still here, he was still alive), this was a memory and was therefore a lot more real than a dream.

The circumstances of Sir Aaron’s death, as well-known as they were, extended as far as to say he had supposed gone to the Tree of Beginning and died there to stop a war between two neighbouring countries before it could lay waste to the small kingdom of Rota. Not much knowledge existed on the Tree of Beginning, but Riley supposed that the rock chamber and crystals was just that. Mew wasn’t here anymore, but had been not too long ago. It had been awe inspiring to see a Legendary Pokémon in person, but there wasn’t time for pleasantries, something Mew seemed to understand.

For all his worry and internal debate, in the end the decision that would end his life was an easy one. After all, he had the chance to save so many lives, what was his in comparison? However, he didn’t anticipate dying would take this long.

He didn’t really want to die. No one really did, he supposed. It was just human nature to ensure survival. The thought of dying was terrifying. His heart was pounding in his ears as he started to flicker in and out of existence. He distracted himself with the time flower he found near him, rambling on to it. Maybe someone would find it one day (maybe, one day, Lucario would understand and find it within his heart to forgive him, Aaron supposed.)

\---

Riley jerked back to reality and tried to separate his memories in his head, but noticed his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He sat like that for a while, trying to come to terms with having died-but-not-died.

A thought suddenly pierced him, and he, almost robotically, left his bed and found his family’s book, opening it to the page of the painting. And then Riley looked straight into the face of the hero.

In the painting, the hero Sir Aaron looked remarkably young. He was maybe as old as Riley was now, possibly younger. What had Riley been doing at that age? Not saving the country, that’s for sure.

But then, Riley thought, maybe that was the point. Sir Aaron was young, and liked things young people liked, and did things young people did. He liked to mess around in hot springs. He liked spending time with his partner Pokémon. He was most definitely in love.

And he had been scared and desperate, there at the Tree of Beginning. He was scared to die, yet he sacrificed his life anyway. Not for the greater good. Not because it was the right thing to do. Sir Aaron had loved the country he lived in, and the other people who had lived in it too. Sure, they had been naïve, and ignorant, and close minded at times, but they were happy and content and at peace too. If he had to die for it to remain that way, for there to be peace and prosperity, then he would do it, even though he was young, and scared, and didn’t want to die.

For the first time, Riley looked into the face of Sir Aaron in the painting and did not look away.

**Author's Note:**

> (I haven't watched the 8th movie in a while). I know the title doesn't fit exactly but its still a good fit. (Really just wanted non-shippy Riley fanfiction tbh)


End file.
